


Young Communists

by fanserviced



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Comedy, Communism, Crack, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 18:06:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12612332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanserviced/pseuds/fanserviced
Summary: I originally posted this 1/1/2017, but took it down because I reworked it for a contest that ended up being won by a Tom Hanks x typewriter kink fic, go figure. So now it's back and just as Communist as ever!Genre: Crack, Comedy, SmutRating: NC-17Length: one-shot, 3,000 wordsKinks/Warnings: Smut, top!soo, mildest breathplay ever, communismSummary: Kyungsoo is here for one thing and one thing only: to shoot his shot and hopefully end up fucking the campus’ Gucci-clad minister of Marx, Kim Jongin.





	Young Communists

“I’m here for the ‘Bernie in 2020: Capitalist Swine in Socialist Drag’ work group. Is this the right place?” said Do Kyungsoo, straightening his bow tie.

“Did you RSVP using the Eventbrite link on our Facebook page? I don’t see you on the list. We have a group under the name SM-U Young Communists. Could you just log in now and RSVP? We try to keep an accurate count of who comes with contact info,” said Yixing, the group secretary.

“Sure, I’d be delighted to,” said Kyungsoo, taking out his phone and pretending register. “Say, isn’t that a second-year dance student over there? I think we met once long ago and I don’t remember his name. I had no idea he’s also an ardent Marxist. Would you mind re-introducing us so we can trade notes on The Capital?”

Truth be told, Do Kyungsoo had never read _Das Kapital_ , had no intention of reading it, and fell asleep midway through the first David Harvey video lecture on the brick that he watched this afternoon before attending the meeting. He was here for one thing and one thing only: to shoot his shot and hopefully end up fucking the campus’ Gucci-clad minister of Marx, Kim Jongin.

Yixing introduced the pair and darted off to see that a random interloper didn’t make off with the drugstore-brand cookies set out for attendees.

“So what do you study, Kyungsoo?” asked Jongin.

“Accounting. How would you feel about fucking after this meeting?” asked Kyungsoo.

“Much as I’m open to freedom from bourgeois mentalities, I have class?” said Jongin. “Like, the school kind, not the social kind that unites people working toward Communism.”

“I should have framed my proposal more clearly,” said Kyungsoo. “I know you’re not a young communist—”

“I wouldn’t have carried this paper bag around all year instead of a bookbag if I weren’t attuned to the need for solidarity with workers!” said Jongin.

“You carry a paper bag and wear a different luxury watch every day,” said Kyungsoo.

“Nice things last longer,” said Jongin.

“Anyway, now that we have your secret out in the open, we should probably discuss what’s driving you to campus activism,” said Kyungsoo.

“A deep and abiding mistrust of late stage capitalism and desire for the revolution?” said Jongin.

“If that’s not a code for daddy issues, I don’t know what is,” said Kyungsoo.

“You know my father?” asked Jongin, his face falling.

“No, but I think that your college rebellion might get his attention if you did something a bit more ~millennial~ rather than grandparent-like,” said Kyungsoo.

“I should become a Trotskyite?” said Jongin.

“How do you think millennial and go to the ice pick guy?” asked Kyungsoo. “No, I’m talking sex tape.”

“Trotsky is dead, Kyungsoo, I’m sorry to say,” said Jongin. “It would be impossible to make a sex tape with him.”

“With me,” said Kyungsoo.

“Why would I make a sex tape with you?” asked Jongin.

“I’m unfailingly patient when confronted with beauty,” said Kyungsoo.

Jongin waited with a blank face.

“And I have a big dick,” said Kyungsoo.

“How big?” asked Jongin. “Like, compared to your size big?”

“You know Oh Sehun?” asked Kyungsoo.

“Horse Boy?” asked Jongin.

“Yup. I’m second to him in the locker room,” said Kyungsoo.

“I have a tripod from dance practice and we can use my camera. Are you free sometime next week?” asked Jongin.

“No can do,” said Kyungsoo. “I’m graduating this weekend.”

Jongin’s mouth formed an O. “Did you approach me because you’re graduating? Is this you trying to shoot your shot with someone you’ve liked for awhile?” he asked.

“Define ‘liked’,” said Kyungsoo.

“Wrote at least one poem about me and/or jerked off to me,” said Jongin.

“Ok, see, don’t take this the wrong way, but I did that not concerning you as in _you, all of you_ , but certainly your ass, especially before you lost the Freshman 15,” said Kyungsoo.

“Still part of me, it counts,” said Jongin. “Fine, I get a father’s-worst-nightmare sex tape and you get to bust a nut in an ass you’ve written a poem about, fair trade.”

“Out of curiosity, what are your grades like?” asked Kyungsoo.

“I’m second in my year overall after Horse Boy,” said Jongin.

“Ok, with that established, I don’t feel like I’m taking advantage of you. See you tonight in the main building’s rec room after it closes at 2?” asked Kyungsoo.

“I’ll be there with my table game face on,” said Jongin.

As promised, Jongin was ready at 2, awkwardly balancing a tripod in one hand and a seriously expensive camera in the other while struggling to keep his — what even was that? — sparkly open-chested blouse on with the help of a too long belt.

Kyungsoo opened the door to the rec room with a key he had borrowed from his friend Junmyeon, head RA at SM-U. Jongin followed him into the room, banging the tripod on the door frame on the way in.

“So I was thinking that we could do a sort of introductory dance break,” said Jongin, “and then do some dialogue filled with innuendo, and then you could fuck me on that couch.”

“Are you seriously trying to introduce plot to a homemade sex tape?” asked Kyungsoo.

“I just thought that if we were going to leak this so my dad sees it, maybe he could see my dancing for once,” said Jongin.

“Well, now our sex tape recording just got sad,” said Kyungsoo. “How did you get your tiddys so defined, by the way?”

“Oh these?” said Jongin, stroking his chest after adjusting his rhinestone choker. “My spray tan people came by a bit ago to give me some contouring for the shoot. We might not want to fuck on any white surfaces unless you’re into stains.”

“OK, well, I’ll keep that in mind when selecting the surface on which I’ll defile you,” said Kyungsoo. “Want to start with your dance intro?”

“Sure, let me just warm up and get my props,” said Jongin.

“Are you fucking—” said Kyungsoo, pausing when he saw Jongin spread his legs wide and stretch to open the muscles.

“Just take a seat in that chair and I’ll put on some music,” said Jongin from across the room. “It won’t take long, but please be patient if I need a few takes because I want this to be good.”

Kyungsoo began to wonder if there had ever been a less sexy hookup. At this point, it resembled a well-planned group project meeting. He wondered if he could even get hard at this rate.

And then Jongin put on the music and began dancing.

He started on the pool table, laying on his back with both of his legs straight in the air. Once the music started he slowly opened his legs to show off his flexibility, leather pants straining as he formed a deep v. He brought them back together and grabbed his prop, which turned out to be a cane.

By the time Jongin was grinding on the floor and thrusting into his cane, Kyungsoo was halfway hard with a visible tent in his pants.

When the music turned off, Jongin hopped over to where Kyungsoo was sitting and heaved a few deep breaths.

“How did I do?” he asked while patting his forehead with a tissue.

Kyungsoo grabbed his hand and twirled him around, placing a hand on his waist to direct him down into his lap.

“You did so good, baby,” said Kyungsoo, loud enough for the camera to pick up. “I’m so proud of you.”

Jongin shuddered and adjusted in his seat, grinding into Kyungsoo’s rapidly hardening cock.

“Is this a good angle?” asked Jongin.

“Spectacular,” said Kyungsoo.

“I mean for the shoot,” said Jongin.

“Yeah, that too,” said Kyungsoo.

Jongin leaned his head back on Kyungsoo’s shoulder and writhed down into his lap. Kyungsoo reached a hand up to run it over his exposed chest, thumbing his right nipple and earning a gasp in response.

“This thing you’re wearing is so silly,” said Kyungsoo. “What’s up with all the grommets and pearls?”

“I can take it off,” said Jongin. “My senior picked the outfits for this year and he’s kind of a perv. Will you help me with the belt though? My roommate had to fasten it for me.”

“Is this the innuendo-filled dialogue you mentioned?” asked Kyungsoo.

“Yeah, is it hot?” asked Jongin.

“Just take it off, but leave the choker on,” said Kyungsoo.

Jongin undid the belt without a problem and stripped off the jacket.

“We didn’t review kinks,” said Kyungsoo, picking up the belt. “Are you into spanking?”

“I don’t know,” said Jongin. “Can we just do it regular?”

“If your definition of regular includes filming to piss off your father, sure,” said Kyungsoo.

At that point, Kyungsoo hopped out of his chair, took Jongin by the hand like he was leading him to the dance floor, and brought him back to the pool table.

“I think that this spot would offer a perfect angle for the tape,” said Kyungsoo, helping Jongin to lay back on the table like he did at the start of the dance routine. He directed Jongin’s leather-clad legs straight up into the air and then opened them.

“This angle is kind of difficult to hold without help,” said Jongin.

“But you’re doing it so well,” said Kyungsoo, removing his hands. He stroked up Jongin’s tanned chest and pulled his hands back down to the button of his pants. “Can I reward you for working so hard and showing me such a flawless stage, baby?”

Jongin jerked on the table, starting to tremble from the exertion. “Yes,” he gasped.

Kyungsoo popped open the button and drew down his zipper. He reached down to fondle Jongin’s cock through his Migo briefs. Jongin looked down his torso, flexing his abs in order to see Kyungsoo touching him.

“Can you please?” asked Jongin, trailing off.

“Can I please what?” asked Kyungsoo.

Jongin pushed the briefs below his balls, freeing his fully hard cock. “Suck me, please,” he said.

“You’re so hard already, are you sure you’ll be able to handle this?” asked Kyungsoo.

“Please,” wheezed Jongin, his legs shaking.

“Let’s get these pants off you so you can relax and enjoy this,” said Kyungsoo.

“Thank you,” said Jongin, allowing his body to relax.

“Are you going to make me take these off you?” asked Kyungsoo.

“Can you? It’s hard for me,” said Jongin.

“Are we roleplaying bourgeois and proletariat?” asked Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo grumbled and set to work peeling the leather pants off Jongin, secretly relishing the feeling of peeling the hottest ass on campus out of his clothes like a banana.

Now bare aside from the glittering choker at his neck, Jongin demurely folded his long legs to one side as he lay down.

“None of that false modesty bullshit,” said Kyungsoo, “if you want to get your dick sucked, you need to open up like a big boy.”

Kyungsoo grasped Jongin’s ankles and placed each on the edge of the pool table, spread wide. Then he grabbed Jongin’s hips and pulled his ass down to the edge of the table, too. Jongin’s dick jerked.

“Kyungsoo, I should tell you—” said Jongin.

“That you need your dick sucked?” asked Kyungsoo. “Obviously, since I’m going to be doing all the work here. Workers of the world unite, indeed.”

Kyungsoo grasped his cock, watching a bead of precum slide of out the tip.

“You’re making it so wet for me, aren’t you?” asked Kyungsoo.

Jongin nodded and kept nodding as Kyungsoo lowered his mouth to swallow Jongin’s dick in one go. When Kyungsoo ran his firm tongue down the vein on the back, Jongin stuffed a hand in his mouth and began pounding the table with the other.

“That good?” asked Kyungsoo around the dick.

“Just,” said Jongin, “keep going.”

Kyungsoo stroked his hand on the shaft while tonguing the head like he was slurping a scoop of the best ice cream from the campus dairy on a hot day.

Suddenly — unexpectedly — Jongin released in Kyungsoo’s mouth.

He dropped his head with a thump and lay back in silence for a moment. A sniffle cut through the silence.

“I’m sorry, Kyungsoo,” said Jongin. “I didn’t mean to.”

Kyungsoo swallowed the load and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It’s ok, boo boo, but wow you’re really getting into character. Have you considered a theater major?” asked Kyungsoo.

“Are you making fun of me?” asked Jongin.

“Not at all,” said Kyungsoo. “It’s cute that you got so excited from a 30-second blowjob; I feel powerful.”

Jongin slapped at Kyungsoo’s arm and pouted.

“Hop down so we can make a director’s cut,” said Kyungsoo.

Jongin wiggled off the table and hopped onto the floor, spinning around to face away from Kyungsoo.

“Like this?” Jongin asked.

“I do like this, but you need to bend over so I can get at that pretty hole,” said Kyungsoo, gently directing Jongin down so he rested his head on the edge of the pool table.

“Didn’t I just have my feet here?” asked Jongin. “Can we get a Clorox wipe or something?”

Kyungsoo looked up from where he was spreading Jongin’s cheeks and said, “we’re literally filming a sex tape for your family member and you’re concerned about germs?”

“I used to get sick a lot as a child, don’t shame me,” said Jongin.

“Hand me that lube packet on the table,” said Kyungsoo.

“Strawberry or watermelon?” asked Jongin. “I’m personally a fan of strawberry flavors but I’m open to watermelon.”

“Does your ass have taste buds?” asked Kyungsoo.

“Yours doesn’t? I learned in my physiology 101 course that—urghhh,” he said as Kyungsoo sunk in the first finger.

“Strawberry. Taste good?” asked Kyungsoo.

Jongin babbled as Kyungsoo worked him open on two and then three fingers.

“You ok there, young Stakhanovite of taking dick?” asked Kyungsoo, rolling a condom on and lubing it up.

“I’ll have you know that this is my fir—fuck!” said Jongin as Kyungsoo slid in slowly. He began to draw deep, panicked breaths.

Kyungsoo reached up and gently stroked his nipples, stilling to give him time to adjust to the size.

“It’s big,” said Jongin.

“Yeah, I think I mentioned that as a selling point before,” said Kyungsoo.

“No, it’s, like, really big,” said Jongin.

Kyungsoo stroked over his lower stomach and felt Jongin’s cock jerk back to full hardness.

“I’ll go easy on you,” said Kyungsoo, “if you let me pull on your choker once you’re all stretched out.”

At that, Jongin pushed his ass back and rocked onto Kyungsoo’s dick. “I’ll kill you if you don’t, now that you’ve mentioned it.”

“You ready to take me, kitten?” asked Kyungsoo.

Jongin nodded frantically before whispering, “yes.”

Kyungsoo gently rocked up into him, setting a patient pace.

“You can go faster,” said Jongin. “Harder, even.”

Kyungsoo picked up the pace and began to run his fingers through Jongin’s hair near his nape. Jongin shivered and reached down to stroke his cock.

“Already, baby?” asked Kyungsoo. “Ok, hold on.” He tugged gently on the ribbons that tied Jongin’s choker closed while thrusting harder.

Jongin stroked harder and faster, loving the contrast between the hard pounding and delicate tug at his neck.

After just another minute Jongin cried out while painting the side of the pool table with streaks of cum. As Jongin spasmed around him, Kyungsoo emptied his load in the condom and lay his head against Jongin’s back.

Carefully pulling out, Kyungsoo ran his hands down Jongin’s back and glorious ass, no longer the plump showpiece it was in his freshman year when he first discovered chicken delivery, but a fine ass all the same.

Jongin turned with a bright smile on his face. “Kyungsoo, I never thought that my first time could be such a beautiful, emotionally fulfilling experience,” said Jongin. “Thank you for helping me with this tape for my father and fucking me so good, daddy”

Kyungsoo doubled over and began to cough uncontrollably, uncertain which part of the sentence to address first.

In the end, he just zipped up his pants, grabbed his coat, and ran out of the rec room, feeling like an emotionally stunted fool making a big mistake but also unable to quickly come up with an alternative course of action. He left Jongin sitting naked on the pool table, looking confused and a little sad.

Kyungsoo graduated as planned that weekend and moved from his campus apartment to an officetel near his entry-level job at SM-I. On his first day at the office while taking a quick bathroom break, he felt something brush against him. He looked up from the sink and saw dark hair in the mirror behind him.

“Oh daddy, it’s so good to feel you again.”

Kyungsoo turned around, finding himself embraced by Kim Jongin.

“Jongin? Do you understand the full complexity of daddy kink culture or are you just dealing with your issues with your father in a half-assed, roundabout way again?” asked Kyungsoo.

Jongin breathed into Kyungsoo’s suit jacket. “I prefer that this be handled full-ass,” said Jongin.

“How did you get in the building?” asked Kyungsoo. “Security is tight. I got stopped this morning and I work here.”

“My grandfather owns it,” said Jongin.

“Is your family fine with me working here after The Tape?” asked Kyungsoo, wondering if security might bust into the room at any minute to escort him out.

“After watching it, I decided to keep that for us,” said Jongin.

“I’m not getting rid of you, am I?” asked Kyungsoo, smiling and nuzzling in Jongin’s hair.

“Nope, like class warfare, you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future,” said Jongin. “Every Lenin needs his Krupskaya.”

“It’s going to take me five years to get hard after you compare us to the leader of the Russian Revolution and his wife,” said Kyungsoo.

“That’s ok,” said Jongin. “I have some ideas for how to fulfill the plan early.”


End file.
